Caitlyn rolled her eyes at her reflection in the floor length mirror that took up the whole wall in the dance cabin. She hated the generic hip hop dances that they were forced to learn at Camp Rock every year. Just for once, she'd like to try something a little different, something with a bit of pizzazz.

The dance class had filed out a while ago, but Caitlyn remained behind, twisting and twirling her body, experimenting, trying to see if she could remember any of her more classical movements from her earlier days as a dancer, before she got into more contemporary dance. When she started, it was relatively new, and she was one of the unique dancers who made the transition. It had all come as naturally to her as all the steps she had learned previously.

But suddenly everyone wanted in on the action. What was once so exclusive was now common and tedious. Everything was so unoriginal. Nothing surprised Caitlyn anymore.

What she missed was the twist of a jazzy swing, the ferocious thrusts of a tango, and the flow of the salsa. That was originality. That was unpredictably. No move was ever the same twice, and every time you danced, it was if everything else faded into the background. It was just you and your partner and the rhythm.

Watching her reflection carefully, Caitlyn improvised in front of the mirror.

Front step, back step, ciseaux, demi-plie, pirouette, cha cha cha, attitude, chasse to body roll.

Samba hips, arms aloof, change of weight, Caitlyn was reliving it all. Before long, she had lost all interest in the mirror, and was concentrating on timing her steps with the tempo she felt flowing through her entire body, like electricity in her veins.

With a final spin, Caitlyn collided with the mirror and froze, her hands outspread and her right knee lifted, forehead pressed against the cool glass as her sweaty body and fast breath made a cloudy fog on her reflection.

"Wow." A low voice startled from behind, and she spun around the face her observer, immediately defensive.

"What are you doing here?" She spat, glaring at the intruder.

"I heard someone in here, and decide to see who it was. It's not a crime!" He shot back.

"Whatever." Caitlyn sniffed curtly, turning her back on him and moving towards her bag. As she bent over to pick it up, she could still feel his eyes on her.

"What?" She snapped, straightening and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"It's just… Where did you learn to dance like that?" He took a few tentative steps toward her.

"Here and there. I've been dancing for about nine years." Caitlyn shrugged, and went to move past him to the door. But before she could get though, he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Teach me." He demanded.

"Excuse me?" Caitlyn sniffed. She could not believe the gall of this guy. How dare he interrupt her dancing to command that she instruct him, of all things!

"I said, teach me." The corner of his mouth jerked upwards in an irritatingly, arrogantly cute smile.

Caitlyn's eyes narrowed and she wrenched out of his grasp. "Listen, pal, I don't know who you think you are…"

"Shane Gray, but of course." Shane said, smiling that stupid smile of his again and bowing sarcastically.

"Right, Mister Shane Gray, pop sensation, camp counsellor, freakin' hottie of the year or whatever, I don't care! This isn't La La Land, okay? I'm not here to do your bidding. I'm not going to just drop everything and do what you tell me." She scoffed.

"So if I say jump?" Shane smirked.

"I say kiss my ass. Teach yourself, you're meant to be the instructor here, big shot." Caitlyn gloated, turning on her heel and striding towards the door.

"What if I ask nicely?" Shane called to her retreating back.

Caitlyn paused and glanced over her shoulder. "I might consider it."

"Will you please teach me to dance like you just did?" Shane raised his eyebrows earnestly.

"Why?" Caitlyn pried, slowly turning to face him again.

Shane shrugged. "I dunno. It's not like any dancing I've seen before. Everything I've ever been taught is just so stiff and structured, and so that's how I dance. It's so, so boring. And the way you danced just now, it was amazing. You looked so free. I want to be able to dance like that."

Caitlyn was speechless. Mr. Popularity had a soul after all. And he looked so sincere, practically begging her to teach him. She couldn't imagine how detrimental that was to his ego.

"Fine." She huffed. "Meet me here at seven tomorrow. Don't be late."

"Yes! Thank you! You're awesome!" Shane looked as if he wanted to engulf her in a hug, and was barely managing to restrain himself.

"My name's Caitlyn Gellar, by the way." Caitlyn added for good measure. She didn't want him to be calling her by 'hey you' or 'dancer girl' or anything obnoxious like that.

"Well, I'll be looking forward to our next meeting, Miss Gellar." Shane did another mock bow. Ugh, Miss Gellar was the most obnoxious name of all.

"Just call me Caitlyn, idiot. Don't be late." Caitlyn repeated, finally turning and leaving the cabin with a somewhat smug grin on her face.

"No, no, no!" Caitlyn shrieked.

"Well, what then?" Shane spat back in her in the same frustrated tone.

"Body flight, Shane! Act like you have nothing holding you up but air. Not skin, not muscles, not bone, just air." Caitlyn threw her hands in the air.

"I'm trying!" Shane grumbled, scuffing his toe along the ground.

"I know, I know." Caitlyn sighed. "Come on, start again from the lunge."

Caitlyn had been teaching Shane how to dance like her for about two weeks. She had picked the rumba, as it was simple and easily incorporated into any music. She thought this was going to be easy. Shane could already dance, he'd proved that instructing their classes. All she would need to do is teach him some basic steps so she could go back to improvising and he could go back to whatever he did, and leave her alone.

How wrong she was.

She didn't count on a narcissistic perfectionist for a student. She didn't expect Shane to constantly correct himself whenever he made the slightest mistake, scolding himself in annoyance. She didn't expect to discover that underneath his harsh exterior was an insecure and lonely boy, looking for a means of escaping reality, even if only for a few moments.

Caitlyn never let on that she knew this about him though. She kept on treating him like he could have been anyone in the world who wanted to dance, but she just happened to be unfortunate enough that it was him she had to teach. She figured that would make him feel more comfortable, anyway.

"One, two, three, four." Caitlyn counted out loud in a loop as they started their routine. She could see the concentration creasing Shane's face as her laboriously moved his feet in time with hers.

They finished with a flourish and Caitlyn's face lit up. "You've got it!" She squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

"No, I don't. It's not right." Shane muttered, frowning.

"Well, you've got the technique practically perfected." Caitlyn shrugged

"It's still not the same as you though. It's empty. It's missing something." Shane pouted.

"You need to be able to feel the dance. You can't just do the steps. You've got to convince people that this is what you're feeling." Caitlyn urged. "Let's try one more time."

Caitlyn studied his body throughout the routine, correcting little mishaps along the way. Shane was right, there was something missing from his dancing, that little something that would take him from being a good dancer, to being a great one.

"Shane, you're not convincing me! You need to be convincing! The rumba is the dance of love. Look at me like you're in love with me!" Caitlyn exclaimed.

Shane looked up more quickly that Caitlyn anticipated. Their eyes met, and both stumbled. Shane grasped Caitlyn firmly around the waist before she could fall to the floor. Blushing, she quickly stood and pushed herself off him, but still didn't break her gaze. And was Shane who finally coughed uncomfortably.

"That was better, I think." He mumbled.

"Yeah, but you're restraining yourself, Shane. I feel like there's so much untapped potential in you." Caitlyn sighed and slapped her hand on her forehead.

"You're the teacher, Caitlyn! You're the one that supposed to know how to reach that, not me!" Shane cried, throwing his hands in the air.

"Where do you feel the rhythm?" Caitlyn asked suddenly, hands on her hips, staring him down.

"Um…" Shane stared at the ground, and imagined a beat inside his head. Slowly, he began to move in time with it. He transferred weight from the balls of his feet, one at a time, shuffling along to the pulse. He transferred all his rhythm into his feet.

"No, Shane, no. This is where you should feel it." Caitlyn placed both her hands on his torso, one over his heart, the other over his diaphragm.

"One, two, three and four, bom, bom, bom bom bom." Caitlyn pounded out the beat she was repeating onto his chest.

She felt him gradually relax under her, and she swore she could feel his heartbeat matching her tempo. And as his heartbeat got faster, so did her counting. She patting his chest faster and faster until finally he grabbed both her hands in his, easing them off his chest. She glanced up and their eyes locked again. Caitlyn's mind went blank, and she hated to think about what kind of brain dead idiot she must have looked like at that moment, gaping at Shane like some love-struck moron.

"Caitlyn, you know how you said the rumba is the dance of love?" Shane sighed, releasing her hands, arms dropping to his side.

"Yes, it is" Caitlyn nodded.

"Well, it's not real love, right? It's just pretend, you know." Shane shrugged.

"Oh." Caitlyn's face dropped, but she had her sarcastic façade back up almost immediately. "Oh, yeah, pssh, I know, duh!"

How could she have been so stupid? Of course Shane wasn't going to use the dance reference as some twisted declaration of his feelings for her. He didn't even have any feelings for her, as far as she was concerned. Which was fine with Caitlyn. Yep, it was just hunky dory. It wasn't as if she had acquired an attachment to him over the last couple of weeks, or anything. She crossed her arms in front of her stomach and leaned back on one foot, unsuccessfully trying to appear nonchalant.

"Okay, good." Shane matched her awkward position, and continued. "Well, that's probably enough for today."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, same time." Caitlyn quickly turned away so he wouldn't be able to read the expression of humiliation on her face.

"I can't. It's Final Jam, remember?" Shane laughed uneasily.

"Right. And then I go home…" Caitlyn's voice faded as they both realised what this meant.

"So I guess this is it." Shane murmured.

"I guess." Caitlyn shrugged, still not facing him.

"Um, goodbye?" Shane said, more of a question than a statement.

"Yep, bye. Good luck with everything. I hope you find your rhythm." Caitlyn blurted out quickly, hoping Shane wouldn't catch the quiver in her voice.

She heard him walk up behind her and could feel his presence at her back. Taking a deep breath, she spun around quickly and extending her stiff arm. "Nice working with you, Mr. Gray."

Shane smiled softly and took her hand. "The pleasure was all mine, Miss Gellar."

It was after Final Jam, and Caitlyn was sitting at the dock, over looking the canoes as the sun set and slowly swaying to the sad, slow rhythm that was currently inhibiting her body.

"You still look amazing when you dance, even in the dark." The familiar voice from the shadows made Caitlyn's stomach drop.

"Shane, what the heck? What are you doing here?" Caitlyn gasped.

"I just wanted one last dance with the best teacher I've ever had." Shane chuckled helping her to her feet.

Caitlyn once again found herself speechless in the presence of one Shane Gray, even though she had so many questions she wanted to ask. What about the Final Jam after party? What about the winner of Final Jam? Isn't he doing something with them? Wouldn't Shane's friends and all the Connect Three fans be wondering where he was? But all those tumultuous thoughts in her head dissipated as Shane drew her into him, and the began to dance the steps they had been practicing for so long it was almost second nature.

Almost immediately Caitlyn realised that something had changed about Shane's dancing. It was more confident, more exciting. Shane had finally found the rhythm he had been searching for, and she wondered what could have possibly brought about this change. But she didn't have to wonder for long.

"Caitlyn?" Shane murmured into her hair as she rested against him.

"Mmm?" She hummed, sending vibrations across his chest.

"Remember how I said the rumba isn't real love?" Shane mumbled.

"Yeah?" Caitlyn replied, her hot breath tingling against his collarbone.

He pulled back and deeply looked her in the eyes, smiling as they glinted off the rippling moonlight reflecting from the lake.

"I think I made a mistake." He whispered, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers, dipping her low as she gently kissed him back.

YESSSSS I HAVE MY LAPTOP BACK I AM SO HAPPPPPYYYYY!!

Ahh, I got sick of writing angst. Well, not really, I still have a lovely one in the works, but I'm in such a good mood that decided to write something a bit more cheerful and corny, and I watched Strictly Ballroom the other day (my favourite movie ever), then remembered the LOL-tacular dance sequence in CR, so I decided to write this. Blergh ending, I know, but I'm just happy to be writing again.
GAH why is it when I set out to write something short and minimal it turn into like a ga-jillion words and takes me forever to finish? I need to start physically restraining myself!

Shaitlyn LOVE, btw. Review plz.